Kris Longknife: Audacious Part 7

"Not my job description," the inspector said. Then paused, as if debating whether or not to say more. Kris held him hostage with her eyes. She'd learned at her father's knee that a good politician could often get confessions, concessions, or even extra campaign donations if they just didn't break eye contact.

And unlike other forms of hostage taking, holding someone's eyes against their will was not an indictable offense.

No surprise, it worked in the soft morning light.

"Some of my a.s.sociates in the police force, maybe other places, are wondering if maybe we shouldn't withhold the permit. Some think it might encourage you to go on your way."

Staying in this shooting gallery with no weapon! She couldn't go on carrying without a permit; sooner or later folks would get tired of her and hers flaunting their gun control laws. If they started frisking her every time she left the emba.s.sy...

"I would have thought that whoever didn't drive by that roadside bomb we stumbled over yesterday would be oh so happy that I'd get a permit for my reward." She tried batting her eyelashes along with the words. In the movies, it always worked. No doubt, it would work for Victoria Peterwald.

Kris also tried her ace in the hole. NELLY, DO WE KNOW THE NAME OF WHOEVER IT WAS WE SAVED?

NO, KRIS. I AM STILL WORKING ON THAT. IT IS FAR MORE COMPLICATED THAN YOU WOULD BELIEVE. CAN I BRIEF YOU NOW? IT WILL BE A LONG ONE.

LATER, Kris said. Nelly wasn't helping her, and clearly her experiment in feminine wiles hadn't worked, either.

The inspector shook his head. "I'm sorry. I might officially be grateful, if that had officially happened. However, officially, it didn't. And, unofficially, we're not sure what to make of it. Did someone trying to get you almost get one of us? That's not something we'd like to have happen."

And, what with so much of this planet's current events disappearing with no trace, she could hardly defend her honor. Kris scowled. "So you're willing to s.h.i.+p my very expensive casket to King Ray, and Grampa Al and my father with a sincere diplomatic apology that my death happened on your watch?"

"Certainly as sincere as the diplomatic apology Wardhaven sent Greenfeld on the death of Henry Peterwald the Thirteenth," the inspector said with a very straight face.

"There is no sincerity in diplomatic apologies," Kris muttered. Okay, that didn't work, now what do we try? Kris noticed that it was now Inspector Johnson who was holding her eyes and not blinking.

What could he want?

"Why are you here?" he said softly.

Behind Kris, Jack snorted.

"Not that question again," Penny whispered through a sigh.

Kris found her eyes raising to the heavens. No surprise, the early morning gray had no answer written on the low clouds. Now it was her turn to take in a deep breath and heave it out with enough dramatics to rival one of Tommy's best Irish sighs.

"Inspector," she finally said, looking him straight in the eye. "Would you believe that your planet, with its established ways, solid gun control laws, and law-abiding population was presented to me as a safe harbor where Wardhaven might send their wayward daughter and she'd stay alive while the Rim cooled down and forgot about her last, deadly escapade?"

"Believe it? Not likely."

"Well, I'm having a harder and harder time believing it, too," Kris muttered softly.

The inspector chuckled.

"It seemed believable before I got here and discovered that the same old, same old happens here. It just never makes it into the official record...or the late-night news." Kris bit out those last two words. What a joke they were here.

The inspector swallowed his mirth. "You're serious."

"As serious as that bomb yesterday. I'm here to buy paper clips and spare parts. Arrange for computer sales and software licenses. Stay away from stray bullets until Henry Peterwald the Twelfth forgets I was involved in his son's demise."

"That won't happen anytime soon."

"Tell me about it. And certainly not with Vicky getting in my face." Kris paused, frowning in thought. "Any chance you could find out when the request went in for her visa? Was it before or after mine? If after, how soon after?"

The inspector raised an eyebrow. "An interesting question. I may look into it. Maybe."

"And you might share the results with me? Maybe?" Kris might be weak in femme fatale, but she'd learned to wheedle the cook at Nuu House shortly after learning to walk. Very shortly.

"I might," the inspector said, eyeing her. "I might if you could figure out why you're really here and share it with me."

"It's hard to conclude a bargain with all those mights and maybes in it," Kris said.

"And I'm certainly not interested in shaking on it. Haven't you heard? It's dangerous to shake a Longknife's hand."

"Only since I was in my crib," Kris grumbled.

"Well, I'll be seeing you. No doubt," the inspector said, and departed.

"What was that about?" Jack asked.

"I. Have. No. Idea." Kris slammed all the exasperation she felt into her words. "Any of you have something better, I'd be glad to hear it."

All she got were shaking heads. They headed in to shower, dress, and breakfast. After that, none of them were any the wiser. But there was no summons to the amba.s.sador's office, so, apparently, neither was anyone above them.

Kris was about to leave for exciting negotiations when Nelly broke in. "Kris, I have a message from Great-grandmother Ruth. She wonders if you are interested in lunch today."

"I could be," Kris said, glancing Jack and Captain DeVar's way. They nodded, so she a.s.sumed a full escort was available.

"She is teaching today, and asks you to meet her in front of Garden City University Faculty Center shortly after noon."

"Tell her I'll be there."

No doubt, it would be fun talking to Gramma. And maybe she'd slip Kris a sealed envelope under the table. Orders sent by way of an innocent gray head.

Innocent? Ha! Kris's paranoid self wasn't buying.

But why was Kris here?

13.

Settled into her chair at the bargaining table, Kris put a smile on her lips, a bright look on her face...and told Nelly she was ready for a long, informative briefing.

It did turn out to be long. But informative? Maybe...if Kris could fit all the pieces together. And guess her way around a whole lot of blanks.

KRIS, EDEN NOT ONLY HAS SOME OF THE BEST ENCRYPTION INVENTED BY HUMANS AND COMPUTERS, BUT THERE ARE FIREWALLS BEHIND FIREWALLS EVERYWHERE I TURN. AND THEN THERE IS DATA THAT IS ONLY AVAILABLE OFF-LINE AND I HAVE TO PAY TO HAVE SOME HUMAN AUTHORIZE ITS RESTORATION. AND THERE IS NOT A SINGLE DATA STANDARD. THE PLACE IS ONE HUGE BABEL AS FAR AS INFORMATION STORAGE AND RETRIEVAL IS CONCERNED.

MOST PLANETS ORGANIZE THEIR DATA SO IT IS READILY AVAILABLE TO PEOPLE. NOT HERE. I DO NOT THINK THEY WANT ANYONE KNOWING WHAT ANYONE ELSE HAS.

Kris kept puzzlement off her face as around her the two sides talked about the cost of each unit and upgrades. Grampa Al had a standing offer of a job for Kris if she'd just resign from the Navy. He promised to keep her safe within the security coc.o.o.n he'd built for himself in Nuu Enterprise's headquarters.

Kris made note to send Grampa Al a nice letter declining his gracious offer. And asking him if, in the future she ever did accept, to please shoot her when she showed up for work.

Surely, some s.p.a.ce alien had eaten her brain.

But back to Nelly's problem. It looked like the last thing anyone on Eden wanted was to share information. Kris had been raised to think of information as power. Well, Eden was doing its best to see that very few got their hands on it.

What must research be like? Kris would have to ask Gramma.

Nelly was going on at great length about the lack of any data standards. Most individual's files on Wardhaven opened with a person's name, date of birth, and identification number. On Eden, those might be hidden anywhere in the file. And each system a.s.signed them different locations.

AND YOU HAVE TO CRACK EACH SYSTEM. EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM!.

THERE HAS TO BE A DATA DICTIONARY OF SOME SORT, Kris thought.

OH, THERE IS, Nelly agreed. OFF-LINE OR OFF SOMEWHERE UNDER G.o.d ONLY KNOWS WHAT t.i.tLE. KRIS, THESE PEOPLE ARE PARANOID. AND SCHIZOPHRENIC. THEY ARE ALL CRAZY. LIKE IN THE BOOKS.

Nelly, of course, had access to all the medical books on Wardhaven, but those weren't the ones she meant. Lately, Kris's computer was a.n.a.lyzing all the action, suspense, and murder fiction she could get. Nelly was curious about the human experience of fear. She blamed it on the penchant Kris had for so often getting them almost killed.

IF YOU ARE GOING TO KILL US ALL, I NEED SOME EARLY WARNING. SOME SENSE THAT WE ARE IN FOR TROUBLE. JACK AND PENNY KNOW IT IS COMING. THEY HAVE FEAR. ALL I HAVE IS MY OWN DATA FORECAST. I NEED SOMETHING BETTER.

So Kris put up with dreams of being chased and ma.s.s murders and some really ugly stuff until she demanded that Nelly buffer her nighttime studies better, and those nightmares had stopped.

To be replaced by the usual ones of being chased and people trying to kill her. Or visits from those people who had followed her orders into an early grave.

Kris s.h.i.+vered, something definitely not called for at the bargaining table. "Anyone else cold?" she asked. No one was.

Kris paid attention to the conversation for a while, then went back to Nelly. BUT WHAT ABOUT THE MEDIA? SOMEONE HAS TO KNOW WHAT IS REALLY GOING ON. YOU CAN'T FOOL ALL OF THE PEOPLE ALL OF THE TIME, Kris said, quoting the prime minister quoting someone.

THERE IS A MEDIA, BUT WHAT Pa.s.sES FOR MAINSTREAM REPORTING DOES NOT SEEM ALL THAT RELIABLE. NOT IF WE USE OUR OWN OBSERVATIONS. I AM NOW RIDING THE EMBa.s.sY'S SUBSCRIPTION. IT IS AN INTERESTING EXERCISE IN WHAT I SUSPECT YOU WOULD CALL FRUSTRATION. NOT ONLY DID THEY HAVE NOTHING TO SAY ABOUT OUR TWO KNOWN INCIDENTS, BUT THERE IS NOTHING ABOUTANYPOLITICAL ACTS OF PROTEST. YES, THERE WERE THE ODD FAMILY DISTURBANCES, PEOPLE GOT CUT UP IN BARS, THEIR KITCHEN, EVEN AT SCHOOL, BUT NO GUNS. NO BOMBS.

AND SOMETHING I FOUND VERY INTERESTING WAS THE WAY THE NEWS DISAPPEARED.

INTO ARCHIVES? Kris asked.

SOME ARTICLES DID GO INTO ARCHIVES YOU COULD REACH...FOR AN EXTRA SUBSCRIPTION...WHICH OUR EMBa.s.sY HAS. BUT THERE WOULD BE NEW POLICIES ANNOUNCED AND WHEN I WENT LOOKING FOR THE OLD POLICIES, THERE WAS NOTHING IN THE ARCHIVE. I FOUND REFERENCES TO EARLIER SPEECHES IN STORIES, BUT NO SPEECHES OR EVENTS. NO NOTHING. THE DATA STORAGE IS LARGE ENOUGH FOR A WHOLE LOT MORE DATA. AND IT'S THERE. THEY JUST WILL NOT LET ME GET AT IT. KRIS, I DO NOT LIKE TO FAIL ON MATTERS LIKE THIS. Nelly almost spat in Kris's head.

Kris squelched a chuckle that didn't fit into the present bargaining. Nelly did not have a lot of experience with failure. It would be interesting to see how the present state of her computer's upgrade dealt with this. WHAT ABOUT THOSE OTHER NEWS SOURCES? THE ONES LIEUTENANT MARTINEZ AND GRAMMA RUTH MENTIONED.

THE EMBa.s.sY DOES NOT SUBSCRIBE TO THEM, Nelly started. I USED PENNY'S ACCOUNT TO SUBSCRIBE TO BOTH, THEN JACK'S TO SUBSCRIBE TO TWO MORE OF THOSE MENTIONED. THE SUBS WERE NOT CHEAP. I REPAID THEM FROM YOUR ACCOUNT.

THEY REPORTED BOTH EVENTS WE SAW, BUT NOT ALL THAT MUCH. THEY KNEW A BOMB EXPLODED ON THE MALL, BUT NOTHING ABOUT A MOTORCADE. THEY REPORTED SHOTS FIRED IN THE GOVERNMENT DISTRICT, PROBABLY AUTOMATIC WEAPONS. THEY HAD NO BODY COUNT. I WAS TEMPTED TO FILE A REPORT, KRIS. THEY PAY MONEY FOR NEWS.

HAVING ONE REPORTER IN OUR GROUP, NELLY, IS ENOUGH, Kris said. If Nelly took to selling information along with Abby, Kris would have no hope of privacy.

The negotiations were getting close; Kris asked Nelly to keep any more for later. Still, as Kris paid more attention to the table, her mind gnawed at what her computer had learned.

It wasn't much. Just enough to give Kris a strong hunch that something was rotten in Eden. Still, using the old religious story as a hook to hang things on, she had no idea who the snake might be. No idea even where the tree might hang out. She didn't even know who was filling the shoes-or bare feet-of the guy and gal.

Before too long, Kris called a halt for lunch and took her mulling elsewhere.

Maybe Gramma Ruth did know what her orders were. Absent that, Kris knew she could count on the old woman for some fun talk...and maybe a few more pieces to add to the puzzle laid out on Eden for Kris. Maybe.

14.

Kris did not find a limo waiting to take her to lunch. Instead, three black, hulking, all-terrain city vehicles were parked under the portico of the emba.s.sy. Jack joined her, in dress khaki and blues, and flipped a coin.

"Heads," he said. "You ride in the middle one."

"And if it had been tails?"

"I'd have flipped it again to see if you rode in the lead or trailing rig," Jack said, opening the door for her. Penny was already in the far seat, next to the window.

It looked like Jack intended to take the other window seat, leaving her no place but the center one. "You sure I need all this protection?"

"Don't know, Your Highness. But I'm sure that when we get in trouble again, neither one of us will figure you have enough."

Kris sat where Jack pointed. In front were three Marines, all in dress khaki and blues. "How big is my detail?"

"Fifteen, plus us," Penny said. "There also will be an escort from Eden, but they intend to stay back."

"Out of the line of fire," Kris muttered, maybe a split second behind Jack.

"I've got sniper teams in both of the other rigs. They'll go high if things get mortal. Oh, and two women to escort you to the head. Want anything else?"

"Yes, a weapons permit to make this all legal."

"Wish in one hand, spit in the other," Penny said with a quirk of a smile, "and see which one you get the most out of."

"Your grandmother?" Kris asked.

"No, one of Tommy's," Penny said with hardly a flinch.

The convoy was only a few minutes away from the campus when Nelly said, "Kris, I have a call from Great-grandmother Ruth."